the agony of unmade decisions
by C. Cohen
Summary: Astoria does not feel. She can only watch as those around her destroy themselves, and she feels like marble - cold and immobile, unaffected by changes around her.


Astoria does not feel. She can only watch as those around her destroy themselves, and she feels like marble - cold and immobile, unaffected by changes around her. The only person who understands her is Daphne, and Astoria wonders if this is not grooming, hair being petted softly, sitting on the floor in front of a fireplace, the most comfortable armchair her sister's particular throne. She can hear the whispers of "won't the ice queen melt?", but Daphne, too busy with discussing with Blaise in italian, didn't seem to notice.

Still, being treated as if she matters is rather nice. Her sister is only using her, but so are her parents; at least Daphne is smart enough to pretend to love her.

Astoria does not feel pain. Astoria can see _things_ ; she is a Seer, or so is she told. In her dreams, she Sees possible futures, paths opening and possible options. She Sees Voldemort fall, she Sees Voldemort rise. She Sees Harry Potter win and lose and fake losing.

During the day, she Sees paths close, become grey and die, and tries to pinpoint how that happened. Daphne, at night, who holds threads of gossip like a spider, weaves them into explanations that Astoria can comprehend.

Astoria wonders how she can know it all when Daphne is not a Seer, but her sister smiles prettily - she always had been the pretty one, and Astoria was the plain one that no one paid attention to - and kisses her forehead (sometimes her lips, as a mimicry of love Astoria does not understand), saying that Astoria does not need to worry her empty little head about hows.

On occasion, Astoria Sees death. She Sees a black dog falling in a grey pit, and a green deer can only watch. For some mysterious reason, Astoria feels compelled to tell Harry Potter.

Oh, she knows it's about him. Whenever something big happened in Hogwarts, her visions Saw before her. A green deer fought and won against a basilisk - the year the Chamber had been open. A black dog fled black veils, side by side with a phantom deer - Sirius Black escaped. A goblet spit four butterflies, one black and red, one blue and white, one red and gold, one yellow and black, bleeding profusely - Cedric Diggory died.

She approaches him when he's alone, quiet, pacing in the seventh floor, in front of a rather ugly painting. Trolls dancing ballet - who thought that'd be a good idea?

He notices her, stopping in his steps, and she can see his hand move to his pocket. Astoria does not need to be a Seer to know that's his wand pocket.

"Is there a black dog in your life?", she starts. He pales. Astoria frowns - she should have first introduced herself, before asking, but her sister kept in a little, tight world, where speaking with others wasn't a necessity. "I'm sorry."

"What do you know?", Harry Potter asks, and Astoria stays quiet, trying to spill the words that make her tongue feel like it was made of lead.

"Not enough. Can you talk? I just need a moment,", Astoria replies. He looks at her, and nods. "There is a small classroom in the end of this corridor. I'll be there."

She leaves, not bothering to see if he is going to follow her, and when she reaches the classroom mentioned, sneezes - a inch-thick layer of dust covers everything, the particles dancing in candlelight. The world is soft and unchanged for a brief moment, and Astoria sits in a desk, feet quicking the air.

Harry Potter enters the room soon after - perhaps five minutes later, if that - and looks at her, eyes glinting with something she cannot name.

"What do you know?", it's Harry Potter's turn to start with a question.

"Your black dog will die. You should… Talk with him.", two visions pop in her mind - in one path, the black dog falls; in the other, the black dog stands. The green deer can only watch. "Probably. One path will lead to his death."

"Which one?", Harry Potter asks, approaching. "What path willl allow… My dog to survive?"

"I don't know.", Astoria replies, and it is the truth - she cannot predict which path will be decided on, she can only glimpse possibilities.

Harry Potter stares at her; she stares back.

"You're a Seer."

"Yes."

They stay quiet, and visions keep dancing in her eyes. She knows, however, when he makes a decision - because she sees the image of the dog standing crumble and fade away.

"Thank you,", he says, and Astoria does not understand why. The dog he is so fond of _will_ die.

"You shouldn't be thanking me.",she says, and decides it's time for her to go. Daphne must be looking for her.

Midway to the dungeon, Astoria stops, Seeing for a brief second the dog standing, instead of falling, but it crumbles again. She wonders what that could mean, but shakes her head. The future had already been decided.

When she tells Daphne, the two of them lying in bed quietly, clothes cold on the floor, she smirks and kisses her forehead.

"Don't worry your pretty little head,", she says, kissing her lips. Astoria blinks, unsure. "Besides, what use it is for you to tell him? You already know he won't listen."

"If you say so.", she replied, letting Daphne's hands wander.

When she dreams, she Sees the dog falling into nothingness, the deer crying softly. She Sees a laurel crown wither and die when a snake approaches it, and when wakes up, does not tell her sister the second dream.

"Do you plan on joining the Death Eaters?", Astoria asks instead. Her sister simply laughs, kissing her.

"Don't you want to be on the winning side?", Daphne replies. Astoria does not need to be a Seer to know Daphne and the cause she fights for are doomed.

Astoria cannot answer. She has no love for either side, but she'll probably miss her sister once she is dead.


End file.
